Arkie - September 2017

®

ARKIE

september 2017 DoSouthMagazine.com

CONTENTS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF / OWNER Catherine Frederick CHIEF OPERATING OFFICER Scott Frederick MANAGING EDITOR Marla Cantrell ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE Amanda Grist CONTRIBUTING WRITERS / PHOTOGRAPHERS Marla Cantrell Catherine Frederick Jade Graves Dwain Hebda Megan Lankford Vince Pianalto Larry Rogers Jessica Sowards James Stefiuk

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GRAPHIC DESIGNER Artifex 323 - Jessica Mays PROOFREADER Charity Chambers PUBLISHER Read Chair Publishing, LLC

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INSIDE

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THE OTHER SIDE OF HEARTACHE

ADVERTISING INFORMATION Amanda Grist - 479.719.7416 Amanda@DoSouthMagazine.com

Nichol Goines, heartbroken after the loss of her second son, found comfort and purpose by volunteering at the Ronald McDonald Family Room at Mercy, a place that means the world to her.

Catherine Frederick - 479.782.1500

THE FAIR LIFE OF THE BEASLEY SISTERS

Marla@DoSouthMagazine.com

Kindhearted, respectful, and community minded—that’s how friends and family describe the Beasley sisters. The girls say it’s because of their devoted parents, and the influence of 4-H.

CHEFS IN THE GARDEN On September 12, you’ll have a chance to try great food from amazing cooks at Chefs in the Garden. Can’t wait? Try our two recipes from the chair of that event!

THE MAN IN BLACK Arkansas’ own Johnny Cash, oh how we miss him! An upcoming concert celebrates his life, and the contributions he made to country music.

DOSOUTHMAGAZINE.COM

Catherine@DoSouthMagazine.com

EDITORIAL INFORMATION Marla Cantrell - 479.831.9116 ©2017 Read Chair Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved. The opinions contained in Do South® are exclusively those of the writers and do not represent those of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. as a whole or its affiliates. Any correspondence to Do South® or Read Chair Publishing, LLC., including photography, becomes the property of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. Do South® reserves the right to edit content and images. Printed in the U.S.A. | ISSN 2373-1893 Cover Image: Theeradech Sanin

FOLLOW US Annual subscriptions are $36 (12 months), within the contiguous United States. Subscribe at DoSouthMagazine.com or mail check to 4300 Rogers Avenue, Suite 20-110, Fort Smith, AR, 72903. Single issues are available upon request. Inquiries or address changes, call 479.782.1500.

letter from the editor

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Seven years ago, I started this magazine. I loved

Writer Jessica Sowards spent some time

the idea of spreading good news, telling heart-

thinking about the changing seasons. Her

felt stories, and showcasing my home state. I

essay about the passage of time, and the

have to tell you, I didn’t know how much of my

dance that is our lives, will make you stop

life this endeavor would encompass. I also didn’t

and think.

know that I’d fall in love with Do South maga®

zine as deeply and completely as I have.

We have a story about two amazing young women in 4-H, who are getting ready to

By my goodness, I certainly did. Even late at

show their lambs at the Crawford County

night when I was working with our staff to get

Fair. The Beasley sisters invited us into their

the magazine ready to go to the printer. Even

family’s barn where they mix so much feed,

early in the morning when new ideas would pop

they’ve started using a cement mixer to do it!

into my head, and I’d climb out of bed to write them down.

Even when I was looking at accounting spreadsheets that

As always, we have great food for you to try this month,

showed columns of numbers (math!) that looked like Greek to

my (famous) White Chicken Chili, and Chef Vince Pianalto’s

a creative person such as myself.

scrumptious Pasta and Broccoli al Aglio, and Citrus Olive Cake.

Vince is the chairperson for the upcoming Chefs in the Garden

Every month, I hear from readers who thank us for bringing joy

event at the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks.

and beauty into their lives. I hear from advertisers who let me know how well their ads are working. It makes all those late

One final note. Don’t miss Marla Cantrell’s fiction, “The

nights and early mornings worth it.

Remnants of Time.” Every month, she writes a short story after she’s finished her other stories, and after editing our other

As we put this anniversary issue together, we took some time

writers. A few years ago, she won the Arkansas Arts Council

to reflect. And then we did what we do best—we got to work

Fellowship Award in Short Fiction. I love that I’m able to show-

bringing you another great issue!

case her work!

Writer Dwain Hebda visited Dyess, to show you Johnny Cash’s

I hope you enjoy every page. Thank you to our readers and

childhood home, and to bring you news of an upcoming concert

advertisers for supporting this local magazine that means so

held in his honor. The photos alone will take you back in time,

much to me. What a spectacular seven years it’s been!

and make you miss Johnny Cash all over again.

Our managing editor, Marla Cantrell, sat down with Nichol Goines, whose story of loss and love will take your breath away.

Find out how Nichol dealt with grief by volunteering at the

~Catherine

Follow Do South® Magazine

Ronald McDonald Family Room at Mercy Hospital.

To reserve this free space for your charitable non-profit organization, email: Editors@DoSouthMagazine.com.

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community

Out of the Darkness words Marla Cantrell images courtesy Ashley McFaul via AFSP

Ashley McFaul cherishes her life. At thirty-one years of age, she’s

attend, talking to trusted friends about how she was feeling,

successful at work, has a fiancé, and will soon be the stepmother

and turning to art—something she found she loved—to pull

of a fourteen-year-old. Yes, Ashley cherishes her life.

her out of that dangerous time.

Although, there have been times when she could not say that.

While she seemed to know intuitively what would help her,

In middle school, just making it through the day was hard. She

anyone who’s experiencing self-destructive thoughts should

was bullied, and she was experiencing some trouble at home.

call the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800.273.

Insecurity showed up, and with it, depression, and for a time

TALK (8255), and seek counseling.

surviving was a battle.

Ashley agrees with that advice. And she does all she can to For a while, she thought about killing herself.

help others who are feeling desperate. Last year, when she saw an ad for the American Foundation for Suicide Preven-

Today, Ashley is eternally grateful that she worked her way

tion’s (AFSP) “Out of the Darkness Walk” in Bentonville, she

through it. For her, that meant finding a new church to

signed up immediately. Those attending raised money for the

WALK TO FIGHT SUICIDE OUT OF THE DARKNESS Community Walk DOSOUTHMAGAZINE.COM

community

non-profit, and several experts, such as mental health care providers, showed up to share information.

The experience was so uplifting, Ashley signed on to chair

Suicide Warning Signs (From AFSP)

a walk in Fort Smith, which will take place on October 8,

• Talking about wanting to die

beginning at 2:30 in the afternoon, at Ben Geren Park. Those

• Looking for a way to kill oneself

wanting to participate can register at the AFSP website or at Ben Geren beginning at noon on October 8.

• Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose • Talking about feeling trapped or in unbearable pain

Ashley and two of her friends are working hard to make the event a success. The Veteran’s Administration, a representative from AFSP, and To Write Love on Her Arms (TWLOHA), which is a nonprofit that helps those struggling with addiction, depres-

• Talking about being a burden to others • Increasing the use of alcohol or drugs • Acting anxious, agitated or recklessly

sion, self-injury, and suicidal thoughts, will be on hand, and

• Sleeping too little or too much

Ashley expects several mental health experts to commit soon.

• Withdrawing or feeling isolated

The event is an important way to fight suicide. Last year at Bentonville’s walk, Ashley felt at home with people she’d never met before. Some had been through what she had, others had lost loved ones to suicide, and some were mental health

• Showing rage or talking about seeking revenge • Displaying extreme mood swings The more of these signs a person shows, the greater

specialists. Ashley wants everyone to know there is hope, that

the risk. Warning signs are associated with suicide but

life is hard sometimes but always gets better. “Don’t give up,”

may not be what causes a suicide.

she says, offering advice that served her well, that led her to her beautiful future.

What to Do: If someone you know exhibits warning signs of suicide: • Do not leave the person alone.

• Remove any firearms, alcohol, drugs or sharp objects that could be used in a suicide attempt.

• Call the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800.273.TALK (8255).

• Take the person to an emergency room or seek help from a medical or mental health professional.

October 8, 2:30pm (Day-of registration begins at noon.)

The AFSP “Out of the Darkness Walk” Ben Geren Park, Fort Smith | afsp.com

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calendar

SEPTEMBER 2-3

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Submit your events to editors@dosouthmagazine.com

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Kevin Fowler at the Sound Room Fort Smith ticketfly.com Hear Texas country singer-songwriter Kevin Fowler at the Sound Room beginning at 8pm. Kevin is a star who’s launched his own record label. His latest album is How Country Are Ya?.

Downtown Junk Fest Van Buren oldtownvanburen.com

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Hell on the Border Fort Smith bikereg.com The Arkansas State Criterium Championships will be held in downtown Fort Smith. Ride your bicycle or show up to watch. See website for times and pricing.

From 9am-6pm, shop this festival in downtown Van Buren for vintage, reclaimed, boutique items, antiques, and more. Food trucks, live music, entertainment, and tons of fun. Free to attend!

Antique Automobile Festival Eureka Springs eurekaspringschamber.com Antique automobile lovers, this festival is for you. Old cars, a parade, live music, and the Great Bank Robbery re-enactment. See website for cost to register your car, or if you just want to see the old cars, attendance is free.

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An Evening with Jeremy Denk Fort Smith fortsmithsymphony.org The Fort Smith Symphony presents Jeremy Denk, one of America’s most sought-after pianists, who will perform with jazz legend Dee Daniels at the ArcBest Performing Arts Center. See website for pricing.

calendar

THETOPTENTHETOPTEN 11-16

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Chefs in the Garden Fayetteville bgozarks.org From 6:30-8:30pm, at the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks, you can sample food from some of the best chefs around, enjoy great drinks, and watch cooking demonstrations.

See website for pricing.

Crawford County Fair Mulberry thecrawfordcountyfair.com

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Temple Live Presents Charlie Daniels Fort Smith templelive.com Temple Live, housed in the 1920s Masonic Temple Building, presents superstar Charlie Daniels, whose hits include the legendary “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Starts at 8pm. See website for pricing.

Carnival rides, exhibits, and tons of farm animals on display, plus a rodeo night, all at the Crawford County Fair. See website for pricing.

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30 T H Spa-Con Hot Springs spa-con.org Spa-Con celebrates those who love comic books, science fiction, fantasy, animation, anime, and manga. Celebrities attending include Sheryl Lee and Sherilynn Fenn, from Twin Peaks, and Shannon Purser from Stranger Things.

See website for pricing.

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Lollapalooza on the Green Fort Smith 479.788.7554 From 2-8pm on the UAFS Campus Green, there will be 10 bands playing, a kids’ area with a petting zoo, face painting, a bounce around, arts and crafts, plus yummy food.

Cosponsored by The Shane Bailey Memorial Music Society & UAFS.

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poetry

Ro i LINEs Larry Rogers First published in Pearl

At 17, She fronted A band called Musical Malpractice She and her voice Were rough around The edges like Every Sonic burger Ever served I like her Imperfection in An imperfect world Makes perfect sense I always told her Don’t practice You might Get it right And ruin everything

“Roni” is from Larry’s newest collection of poetry, Live Free or Croak, which is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

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shop

SHOP LOCAL words Catherine Frederick imageS Jade Graves Photography and courtesy vendors

Collegiate Home Décor and Glassware

ZO® Skin Health Phase 2 Anti-Aging Program

SUNSHINE SHOP AT MERCY FORT SMITH

LUMINESSENCE MEDI-SPA AT COOPER CLINIC

479.314.6079

479.274.4200

Sama Eyewear

DR. STEVEN B. STILES OPTOMETRY

19 Crimes Hard Chard, Patz Hall Wine and Drinkware

SODIE’S WINE & SPIRITS 479.783.8013

479.452.2020

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shop

We’re falling a whole lot in love with our newest finds from some of our favorite local shops.

Be sure to check out their new arrivals and stock up on gifts for you and those you love! Happy shopping and remember, keep it local!

Hearts On Fire Camilla Split Shank Engagement Ring in Platinum, 18kt. Rose, Yellow or White Gold

JOHN MAYS JEWELERS 479.452.2140

SkinMedica® Rejuvenize Peel™

FORT SMITH MEDICAL & BEINEMAN AESTHETICS / BROW BAR 479.434.3131 / 479.434.5680

Wooden Home Décor

JENNIFER’S GIFT SHOP AT SPARKS HEALTH

Big Brother Hard Rootbeer, Collegiate Koozies and Cooler

479.441.4221

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IN GOOD SPIRITS 479.434.6604

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entertainment

The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying review Marla Cantrell

By Nina Riggs | Simon & Schuster | 310 pages | $25 As the daughter of a

but as she faced the disease that would undo her, he became

woman who died of

more and more real to her.

breast cancer when she was fifty-two years old,

The title of her book comes from a line Emerson wrote in his

just looking at the cover

journal. He was talking about leaving the prison of this sickly

of The Bright Hour set

body, of becoming as big as the world.

my heart racing. I picked up the memoir, held it in

As Riggs’ treatments failed and her doctors conferred, she

my hands, opened the

saw the handwriting on the wall. She flew to Paris with her

cover as if I expected

husband, the place they’d lived shortly after they’d married.

something

She took her boys to Universal Studios, a trip she hoped would

dark

and

scary to jump out from

show up in their memory again and again.

it. When nothing did, I read the first brilliant sentence, and then the first perfect para-

Reading The Bright Hour reminded me of the last two years of

graph, and then the first profound chapter.

my mother’s life, of how she continued to plan. How she held tight to hope even while filling out a notebook with instruc-

By the time I reached the end of this book, I felt as if I knew

tions for my father. Here’s when the utility bills are due, she

Nina Riggs, that if she were still around, I’d be sending an

wrote. This is where I keep our important papers.

email, or better still, a hand-written letter. I’d be telling her how I opened her book, fell down the deep well of it, and how

I remember seeing her standing in her front yard, her head

I discovered a thousand things about myself, and about the

tipped toward the sky. She was admiring the clouds, the

nature of fear, love, loss, and joy.

images they formed, a game she’d played with me and my brother and sister when we were children.

But I could not write to Riggs, who died of metastatic breast cancer in January, just a month after her book was finished,

I could not see the clouds the way she did. All I saw was death,

at age thirty-nine, two years after doctors found “one small

a wolf that stood at the edge of the yard, ready to devour my

spot” that needed their attention.

mother. She must have seen the wolf too, but that didn’t stop her from the joy of clouds that turned into freight trains or

Riggs, a descendant of poet and essayist Ralph Waldo

kittens or the wings of an angel if you looked closely enough.

Emerson, grew up under the shadow of his immense talent.

She recalled a photo taken of herself and her cousins when

If I could write to Riggs now, I’d thank her for giving me back a

she was a girl, placing a wreath on his grave. For years, she

bit of my mother, and for reminding me of just how wondrous

wondered if she understood the rivers and ledges of his work,

every second of this life really is.

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people

The Other Side of Heartache

Goines Family

words Marla Cantrell images courtesy Greg Hartman Photography DOSOUTHMAGAZINE.COM

people

The decision to have a second child came after many heartfelt talks,

“Probably the second worst thing I’ve gone through is having to tell

a lot of pondering, and much introspection. Nichol and Matt Goines

Mason we weren’t coming home with his little brother,” Nichol says.

understood there would be risks. Their first son, Mason, was born

“He was four. He didn’t understand. We’d tell him his brother was

prematurely at Mercy Hospital in Fort Smith, Arkansas, just a week

with Jesus, and he’d ask when he was coming back. He was so sweet.

after the Ronald McDonald Family Room opened in December 2010.

He’d say, ‘It’s OK, you still have me.’”

At that time, the couple knew little of the four-bedroom luxury apartment that fills 3,200 square feet on the fourth floor of the hospital and

So many people offered comfort, including Nichol’s OBGYN, Dr.

serves families in crisis free of charge.

Timothy Bell. “Dr. Bell couldn’t have been kinder. The day of the service, his wife came to my house to bring food, and I cried and cried.

But after Nichol developed complications due to a syndrome named

There was nothing anyone could have done to prevent this, but just

HELLP, in her thirty-third week of pregnancy, she was rushed into

having a doctor like that meant everything.”

surgery for an emergency Caesarian section. Thankfully, Mason did well, spending twenty days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit as

Nichol’s sight returned to normal in two months, but she had other

he grew stronger. Nichol and Matt learned of the Ronald McDonald

problems. Her kidneys had been affected, something she learned a bit

Family Room during that time, finding comfort there, and eating meals

later, and a condition she deals with even today. Grief, ocean waves

they might otherwise have skipped.

of it, hit as regularly and as fiercely as the tide. “I’d cry in the shower.

I’d cry in bed after Matt went to sleep; I didn’t want him to see me like

Once Mason was home, the reality of what had happened set in.

that. And then one day I collapsed on the bedroom floor, sobbing, and

HELLP affects between 0.2 and 0.6 percent of expectant mothers and

he heard me, and he came and held me in his arms.

is an acronym that stands for Hemolysis (the rupturing of red blood cells), Elevated Liver enzymes, and Low Platelet count. The malady can

“He told me to cry all I needed, that he was crying too. He told me

be life-threatening to both mother and child.

he’d do anything for me.”

Still, she longed for another baby. When she brought up the subject

At that time, Nichol was avoiding people. She wondered if her sorrow

with Matt, he voiced his concerns, worrying that he might lose the

showed in the way she carried herself, in the sadness that preceded her

woman he’d loved since high school. The couple waited four years

into every room. She joined an online support group, and read other

before trying, and in 2014 they found out they were going to be

mothers’ stories to see how they’d made it through. She wondered if

parents again.

volunteering to hold babies in the NICU at Mercy might help. “I knew I was stuck. I didn’t want my son to think we’d lost the baby and now

On February 7, 2015, when Nichol was thirty-three weeks into her preg-

he was going to lose me too.”

nancy just as she’d been when Mason was born, she woke thinking she might have the stomach flu. In fifteen minutes, she was in severe pain.

Some closest to her thought it was a bad idea, that it would crush

She’d suffered a placental abruption, which means the placental lining

her already weary spirit, but she was determined. Nichol signed up,

had separated from the uterus. Typically, a woman will hemorrhage, but

and in April, two months after her loss, she went to the hospital and

due to the location of the tear, Nichol’s bleeding was internal.

steeled herself.

The trauma caused her blood pressure to skyrocket, and she passed out

“I made it to the third floor. The elevator dinged, and I couldn’t get

on the surgery table. Fluid had built up in her eyes, causing temporary

off. I was paralyzed. The elevator shuts, goes to the next floor, and I

blindness in one eye and diminished sight in the other. When her second

walk off sobbing. I walked down the hall, and there was the Ronald

son, Miles, was delivered, he was stillborn, and they were devastated.

McDonald Family Room. I’d managed to calm down by then. Emma Johnson, the Room’s manager, was there, and I asked if they needed

Nichol and Matt spent that day saying good-bye to their precious little

volunteers, and she said they could always use help.”

son, in a room in a special section of the hospital. He weighed one ounce more than his big brother had at birth.

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people

At that point, Nichol let go, telling Emma that the Room was where

ordinary. He told her that when concern hit, to call him, or to show

she would have ended up if Miles had survived. Emma wrapped her

up at his office for an ultrasound and heartbeat check. When she was

arms around Nichol, and let her cry.

thirty weeks pregnant and her blood pressure rose, he admitted her to Mercy, monitoring her regularly.

Since then, Nichol has sat with moms who were in tears themselves, letting them share their stories, offering hope. She’s cleaned, made

On September 27, three weeks after Nichol was admitted, her third

beds, but mostly she’s baked. It gives her peace, and she knows how

son Warren was born. He weighed four pounds five ounces, and he

important a warm meal is when you’re watching your child struggle.

was perfect. He spent ten days in the NICU, and Nichol once again used the Ronald McDonald Family Room.

“It was so good for me. It made me face my emotions head on. I couldn’t hide from anything while talking to these moms because they had been through some of the same things I had. Grief is a roller coaster; I had good days and bad, but eventually more and more good days and less and less bad.”

Nichol laughs as she tells the following part of her story. Her oldest son, Mason, was five when Warren was born. During her pregnancy, they’d asked him what he wanted to name his little brother, and he said, “Volcano Pancake!”

While it was an awesome name, it might have caused a few complications for the little guy, so they opted for Warren, a name that would take him steadily into adulthood.

When Nichol smiles, a dimple shows. Her long blond hair catches the light, and her eyes glimmer, with joy. She returns to the topic of kindness, of that moment when she met Emma at the Ronald McDonald Family Room. That day, she was looking for the other side of heartache. She is filled with gratitude that she found it, a safe shore that looked so far away it might as well have been a mirage. She is grateful that it was something much more concrete, something as real and everlasting as hope.

Her story could end right here, a lovely tribute to the power of love, the beauty of giving. But this is only the mid-point because as Nichol grew stronger, her desire for another child was overpowering.

Of course, her husband Matt was hard to convince. They’d been through so much. Still, Nichol persisted, meeting with Dr. Timothy Bell,

The Ronald McDonald Family Room at Mercy Hospital in Fort Smith welcomes volunteers, donations, and support.

who referred her to Dr. Bernard Canzoneri in Northwest Arkansas who

Also, the Red Shoe Shindig, which supports the Family Room, will be

specializes in high-risk pregnancies. With a careful plan in place, she

held October 14, at 6pm, at Hardscrabble Country Club. To buy tickets

and Matt decided to try again.

or learn more about volunteering, visit www.rmhcofarkoma.org.

“Dr. Bell said, ‘If you want another baby, then I’m here, and we’re going to make it happen. I’m not going to leave you alone.’”

In February 2016, Nichol was pregnant again. Dr. Bell knew she’d be concerned about every twinge, every ache that seemed out of the

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pets

SAVE A LIFE. ADOPT A SHELTER PET. M

F

F

M

Diesel

Minnie

F

Elvis

Pixie

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Angel

Radar

Almost Home Shelter and Rescue 3390 Pointer Trail East - Van Buren, AR | 479.462.3122 or 479.629.0056 | Almost Home Shelter and Rescue is a 501C-3 Non-Profit all volunteer staffed facility. They work in partnership with Van Buren Animal Control to find loving, forever homes for the dogs in their care. All dogs will be spayed or neutered and up to date on vaccines when adopted. The shelter is newly formed and has very limited space. Please consider adopting or fostering one of their sweet pets.

Each month, Do SouthÂŽ donates this page to local and regional non-profit animal shelters. If you work with a shelter and would like to reserve this space, please email editors@dosouthmagazine.com.

DOSOUTHMAGAZINE.COM

garden

Words Megan Lankford, Lead Horticulturist, Botanical Garden of the Ozarks image courtesy Botanical Garden of the Ozarks

September in the Garden THE DIRT:

Gardening in Arkansas in the autumn can be challenging. By now the insects are near their peak, as the summer heat has allowed multiple generations of pests to proliferate. What’s a gardener to do? I suggest choosing your crops wisely and using row covers! Row covers are made of thin material that lets light through, but not insects and diseases.

YOU CAN PLANT:

TIPS: Some of my favorite vegetables to grow in the fall are Black Summer Pak Choi, mini cabbages that will be ready in less than fifty days, arugula, lettuce, spinach, and of course, kale. By setting up a simple low tunnel with PVC, rebar, and row covers for keeping insects out, you can keep your veggies bug free. There are a lot of good sites that show you how to build a low tunnel, but my favorite is grabngrowsoil.com. Right before the first frost or freeze hits, change the row cover out for plastic designed for low tunnels (it lets the correct spectrum and amount of light through). Voilà! You have now extended the season of your garden. It may not protect them all winter, but it will give you another month or so of fresh veggies.

Prepare your beds by adding plenty of organic matter. Compost or rabbit manure work great!

Garlic and shallots need a well-drained home for winter. Loose soil with good drainage will also allow the bulbs to grow to their maximum size. Although garlic and shallots don’t have many above-ground pests, both can get soil diseases, so make sure you’re rotating your crops.

Garlic can be in the garden until June; plan your spring crops accordingly.

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Cabbage, Collards, Bok Choy, Kale, Swiss Chard, Lettuce, Fennel, and Dill Transplant what you sowed last month plus garlic and shallots!

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diy

words Catherine Frederick images Catherine Frederick and Jeromy Price

DOSOUTHMAGAZINE.COM

diy

My family loves Gulf Shores, Alabama. We make it to the

generic shell to some, means the world to me. It’s the shell my

beach most every year for a week of fun and relaxation. And

then three-year-old discovered and delivered with the message,

each time, my obsession with collecting beautiful seashells

“I found this just for you, Mommy.” But what to do with all of

shifts into overdrive. It seems like each crushing wave rushes

them? That’s been my husband’s question for years until I

a different type of shell to the shore; therefore, I must have

discovered a shell mirror from Pottery Barn. Then I discovered

them all – right? Even my husband, who gives me the evil eye

the price. Ouch. What’s a crafty girl to do but make one herself?

each time I bend down to grasp yet another shell, can’t help but grab a shell or two every now and then.

Don’t have shells but love the look? Shells can be purchased from local craft stores like Hobby Lobby and Michaels, even

For the past few years, I’ve gathered and brought home tons of

from Amazon. Besides shells, you’ll need a framed mirror.

treasured shells. And there they sit. Tied up in plastic Walmart

Personally, I wouldn’t spend a lot on it. You’re going to cover it

bags. In a dark hall closet where they remain year after year.

up with paint and shells. I got mine for ten dollars at Wasted, an

In those bags are my memories. What would appear to be a

antiques and vintage shop in Fort Smith, Arkansas.

What You’ll Need Seashells (I also included sand dollars, driftwood and bits of coral) Framed mirror Hanging supplies Craft paint (I used Apple Barrel® Acrylic Paint in Sandstone) Foam paintbrush Hot glue gun and glue sticks Razor blade Window cleaner Cloth or paper towel

*IMPORTANT NOTES: If your shells were collected at the beach, be sure to rinse and dry them thoroughly. You’ll also want to make sure you have shells in a variety of sizes to cover the entire frame. Make sure your framed mirror is ready for hanging and that the hanger can withstand the weight of the frame and shells.

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diy

I began by painting the entire frame, paying close attention to coverage on the outside edges. I applied one coat to the face of the frame and two coats to the outer edges of the frame. The paint helps to camouflage any areas that may be visible through the shells. Once the frame is completely dry, lay the framed mirror, face up, on a flat workable surface, like a dining table.

Here’s where this project can get tricky for those of us with OCD tendencies.

I wanted mine to be perfect. So I first sorted several years of shells into groups by type, and some types by color – yes, color. Then I selected out the larger, more decorative shells, and those that held special meaning. Those shells would be placed on last so they would stand out.

I wanted my frame to look as if it had been dipped in shells so my next task was to completely cover the face of the frame, creating a base with shell fragments and non descript shells. These would be partially covered by other shells.

1

Plug in your hot glue gun and allow it to heat for several minutes. Apply glue in small sections and press shells into hot glue (glue can also be applied directly to the bottom edge of the shell). Hold in place until glue cools – this only takes a few seconds. I placed my shells at random, piecing them together like a large puzzle, which can take forever if you’re indecisive like me. But shells can also be applied in a pattern, such as placing smaller shells all around the inside of the frame and working out to the outer edge.

2

Continue covering the entire frame with shells, leaving only small spots of the frame showing. Next, begin placing, NOT gluing, the larger, decorative shells where you want them on the frame. Now is the time to move the decorative shells around until you are certain of their placement. One at a time, glue the larger shells into their location.

3

Using small shells, fill in any gaps, so that the entire face of the frame is completely covered in shells. Allow all glue to dry thoroughly, about an hour. Glue guns tend to leave behind tiny strands of clear glue. Remove them by gently brushing the shells with a foam brush. If you have dried glue on the mirror itself, simply scrape it off with a razor blade, then clean the mirror with window cleaner and a soft cloth or paper towel.

My years of collecting finally paid off in this one project. Yes, I saved over $400 with this DIY, but I saved so much more. I saved memories. Each time I look at it, I’m reminded of our years at the beach. In that mirror, I can see our children building sand castles, diving beneath the waves, running back to me with a handful of shells. And all at once, I am taken back to our favorite place in the world.

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The

Dance Words & Images Jessica Sowards

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Every September, something heavenly happens.

Usually towards the end of the month, sometimes entirely without warning, summer begins to loosen his grasp and autumn begins to push his way in. The season won’t actually change until October. The weather won’t firmly break open into cooler days for weeks to come. But in September, I will walk out early one morning with my milking pail and mason jars filling my arms, and I will stop in my tracks. The screen door may slam startlingly loud behind me, and the goats may scream, demanding my progress to their barn for milking. I will pause, unmoved by their demands, for one precious minute and drink in the first brisk morning of the year, like a letter from a lover promising, “I’ll be in your arms soon.”

A million years ago, before my mornings were run by demanding goats, back when my life was not built around my little farm, the changing seasons did not move me quite as they do now. Oh, I always appreciated the cycle of the year. I would thrill as the scenery of the store shelves changed, and I would anticipate things like impending football seasons and holidays.

But commercialism, in all its greed, pushed the envelope. Bathing suits found their way onto racks in January, and Christmas decorations began to be unpacked when the thermometer still read ninety degrees.

I pulled back, as anyone would from a pushy pursuer who demands affection before the proper romance. I became somewhat dulled to the way time shuffles around the calendar year.

It seemed almost a dance separate from me.

The changing season changed my wardrobe but my life and routine mostly remained consistent throughout the year. My unwavering routine set my heart into steady monotony, unmoved by the cycle of time. Then I became a farmer and everything changed. I learned to dance with the changing seasons, and I fell wildly in love.

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Time has a way of wooing those who

This summer was hard. The heat came early. The fight to

will dance with it. And it is because of

plants dried up early and the harvest was cut short. The

the dance that I’ve begun to embrace

of parasites. Our chicken flock contracted a respiratory

a different level of changing seasons.

the unanimous advice from wise farmers well versed in

The cycle of life and death is no longer

did, and I hated it. Then, on a morning in July, a knock

a disconnected thing. The processes

lay lifeless beside the road.

of mourning and joy, resting and

You would think that a summer like that would do a farm

working, planting and reaping, are just part of the dance.

protect the garden from pests was a fight I lost, so the rain was relentless and we buried three goats because disease that they would never fully recover from, and biosecurity was to cull the flock and start fresh. So we on the door informed us that our sweet and faithful dog

girl in. It was such a tremendous amount of loss wrapped up in a few short months, but if I’m being honest, it didn’t hit me like it used to. Back when the changing seasons were marked by retail stores, that level of disappointment would have cut me too deep to stop the bleeding. My heart might have dried up like my tomato plants. Had these blows of summer come sooner, back before I had been romanced by seasons and time, I might have given up.

I didn’t give up though. Because I had learned to dance.

When summer stomped my toes and twirled me too hard, when he shook me to a rhythm that hurt my heart, I simply looked forward to my next dance partner. At some point, towards the end of this month of September, I will step outside and find autumn calling. It will come on a single brisk morning. I’ll smell it and know it’s almost here to twirl me into what is next. The fall garden will bloom and begin to bear root vegetables and leafy greens. I’ll can bushels of apples and pears from nearby orchards, and we will prepare for the coming cold.

Autumn is the reprieve at the end of the long haul of an Arkansas summer. It is a romance where the world burns crimson and gold and even the light ignites the deepest places of the soul.

Then winter will take my hand. Winter, with its icy kiss.

We will meet in the morning on a gray and dormant farm. Winter is a slow dance, a familiar one where you rest your head on its unyielding shoulder. As I glide through winter, I will break the ice in water troughs multiple times a day and carry hot mash to our animals. I will retreat into the warmth of a waiting farmhouse, with

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its roaring fireplace and worn rugs. In the winter, my kitchen is as a womb and my family grows and rests, preparing for the birth of spring.

Spring is the season of promise. It’s like waking up after a long sleep. It is the dance partner that doesn’t even have to ask. It is the one I throw myself headlong into. There are plans to be made and work to be done.

Spring is when muscles grow and ground is broken. The babies come. Bouncing goat kids abound and peeping fluffs crack out of eggs. Milk begins to flow and food begins to break forth on berry bushes. Spring encourages you that it was worth the winter. It was worth holding on through fruitlessness.

A farm summer, though, is a different kind of dance. It’s one I have not yet found the strength to last through.

Every year, it leaves me winded and feeling a little like an inadequate partner, but I keep dancing. I dance as my skin turns golden brown and my hands grow calloused. I dance out of bed when the alarm goes off in darkness, and the chores demand the hours before the heat becomes unbearable. I dance through milking goats until my weak arms scream in pain. I dance until I cannot dance anymore. When the loss mounts in the heat, I dance for what is lovely.

Time has a way of wooing those who will dance with it.

And it is because of the dance that I’ve begun to embrace a different level of changing seasons. The cycle of life and death is no longer a disconnected thing. The processes of mourning and joy, resting and working, planting and reaping, are just part of the dance. gives birth to the morning, and the evening births the night. Day after I never saw that, back when my life was marked by what

day, season after season, and the years pass so much faster than I

lined the shelves of Walmart.

ever imagined they could. I bury the bodies of lives I committed my life to nurture. I put my hand to the birthing of new lives and nurture

But now I wake up to demanding goats on a dancing

again. This is the nature of life and time. To everything a season, and

farm in the middle of the woods. Each day, the night

to every season a dance, and to every dance, my hand.

Follow Jessica @thehodgepodgedarling.blogspot.com.

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Annie and Madelyn Beasley

The Fair Life of the

Beasley Sisters

words and images Marla Cantrell and courtesy the Beasleys

4-H began more than 100 years ago, and is the nation’s

Right now, Madelyn, who’s seventeen, and Annie, who’s fourteen,

largest youth development organization, which is overseen by

are getting ready to show their lambs at the Crawford County Fair

the Cooperative Extension System. Their goal is to help young

in Mulberry, which will be held September eleventh through the

people and their families learn skills that help them contribute

sixteenth. The sisters are members of the Rocky Top 4-H Club in

to their communities and develop ideas for a more innovative

the Turner Community, and this year Annie is serving as the chap-

economy. 4-H programming can be found in all fifty states, in

ter’s president. Earlier in the year, the sisters applied for loans from

rural, urban and suburban areas.

Farm Credit’s Youth Program to buy their livestock, and once the show season has ended, they’ll pay the money back.

This Saturday starts with rain, and even when the showers end, the sky stays the color of a gray fox. At two in the afternoon,

The girls are strong and smart and lovely. Annie wears braids, a

the temperature is hovering around eighty-four degrees, cool for

belt buckle the size of a rearview mirror, and braces on her teeth.

August, and a relief for Madelyn and Annie Beasley, who are

When she talks, she uses her hands, and she smiles a lot. She

working inside the family’s barn in Mountainburg, Arkansas.

and Madelyn have been in 4-H since they were five years old, the earliest you can join. Their older sister, Lillian (Lily), who’s now in

Already, they’ve mixed the feed for their lambs, using an old cement

college, joined before them, and they couldn’t wait for their turn.

mixer their dad, Kirk, found through his job as an auctioneer.

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Madelyn, with her hair in a ponytail, with dark eyes that sparkle,

“I’d always wanted a farm. I wanted a family, eventually. When I

is telling the story of their recent 4-H State-O-Rama competition.

first held our oldest daughter Lillian, I just wanted to be the best

She was giving a speech on the perils of texting while driving,

dad.” A rooster crows, once and then again, and all talk stops

and one of her judges was a State Trooper. He asked a tough

for a second. “I don’t candy-coat things with my kids; I saw a lot

question about the then-upcoming change to the state law, and

growing up, so I tell them straight.”

she wasn’t sure of the answer. While this interaction could have thrown anyone off, Madelyn reacted thoughtfully, a result of both

He is about to say something else but then Annie says, “He’ll start

her 4-H training and her quick mind.

one of his stories, and we’ll say, ‘Not another life lesson!’” All three of his children laugh.

Outside, the wind picks up, whistling as it hits the metal barn. Kirk says, “I love the public speaking aspect. Before Madelyn started, she

Kirk doesn’t mind the teasing. The talk turns back to Lily, and

was really bashful. People think 4-H is all about raising animals, but

Madelyn says, “She was always our role model. She joined 4-H,

it’s so much more. They learn skills, even about robotics. They learn to budget and finance. And they do public service projects.”

“We decorate Alma Health and Rehab for the holidays,” Annie says.

“We put flags on veterans’ graves at Pope Cemetery. Together, every chapter in our county raised money by collecting 144 pounds of aluminum can tabs that we donated to the Arkansas Children’s Hospital, and a recycling center matched the donation.”

Every day this summer, the girls have been practicing for this fall’s county and state fair competitions, using the show ring that’s at one end of the barn. To show what they’ve learned, they each lead a lamb into the ring without a halter. Once inside, they position the lambs so that their legs are aligned in a way that shows them to their best advantage. If you’ve ever watched the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, you’ve seen something similar.

The similarity ends, though, with the girls’ final move. Madelyn and Annie lift their lambs’ heads and shoulders, letting the animals lean into them, a move that helps the judges as they inspect each animal.

In the silvery light of the barn, dust motes are dancing through the air. The girls’ younger brother, Bryce, has been playing with a friend, and their faces are flushed from running. Kirk watches his brood, taking in every second. This year he celebrates his twenty-fifth anniversary with his wife, Melissa, a girl he met when he moved from Bossier City, Louisiana to Mountainburg in 1989, when he was seventeen. “I was an uncontrollable teenager,” Kirk says, “and I moved here to live with my dad when I was a senior in high school.

Nobody knew me, so it was my chance to start over. I had a rocky start, but I made it. Back in Louisiana, in 1989, there were armed guards in my high school, so you can imagine what it was like.

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and then we joined 4-H. Lily is going to be a nurse, and I’m going

Last year, both girls competed in county and state fairs, bringing

to be a nurse someday. And my mom is a nurse at Sparks.”

home a cache of ribbons, and Annie wears the belt buckle she won from her Grand Championship win at the Crawford County

Annie says, “I’ll probably be a veterinarian. I know I want to work

Fair. “We made the most money we ever had with our lambs last

with animals.”

year,” Annie says. Madelyn adds, “I sold my wether at the county fair and made four-hundred dollars.”

“4-H has been a great help to us,” Kirk says. “I think these girls are way ahead of the curve. They can speak before a crowd, they’ve

The winning, the money, it’s not what they love best. Their joy

learned finance. I’ve given them one-hundred dollars a week to

comes from meeting other people who share their interests, and

feed the family, and they can do it. They’ll buy lettuce for tacos,

from the upcoming Crawford County Fair, where both will be

say, and then use the leftover lettuce for salad the next night.

assisting younger kids who might need a little help in the show

They’ve learned to speak up for themselves, to ask for help when

ring. They’ll also work in the exhibit halls, doing whatever’s needed.

they need it, and to help other people.”

Madelyn and Annie are coming to the end of their long day. They The speaking up part can be a little tricky. The girls mention J.B.

walk side by side down the length of the barn, that connection

Massey, a legend in their circle, who’s an expert in lambs and runs

of sisterhood evident in their closeness, in the easy way they talk.

show camps to get kids ready for competition. He lives in Van

And then they laugh at something one of them has said, the

Buren and has become a mentor to the sisters.

sound of their laughter so bright it seems to lift the gray that’s been taunting the troubled sky since daybreak.

When they first started calling him to ask advice, it was hard to do. His kindness overrode their fear, however, and now they can breathe before they pick up the phone. Annie looks around at the lambs in their pens, at the chalkboard behind them where they track their weight and feeding schedule. “None of this would have been possible without J.B. Massey’s help.”

To learn more about 4-H, visit 4-H.org.

The Crawford County Fair will be held at Kirksey Park in Mulberry from September 11-16. Find out more by visiting thecrawfordcountyfair.com.

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Chefs in the Garden

Recipes

Recipes courtesy Chef Vince Pianalto, Honorary Chair, BGO 2017 Chefs in the Garden images courtesy Cole Fennel Photography

The culinary event to the season, Chefs in the Garden, will be held September 12, at the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks in Fayetteville. Guests stroll the garden, sampling food from some of the best chefs around, enjoying great drinks, and watching cooking demonstrations.

Here are two recipes from Chef Vince Pianalto, the honorary chair for this great event. For tickets, visit bgozarks.org.

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Citrus Olive Oil Cake INGREDIENTS

METHOD

(Serves 8) Preheat oven to 350°F. In medium bowl, whisk together egg,

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >>

1 1/8 cups all purpose flour

sugar, milk and olive oil until combined. Add flour, baking

1/2 teaspoons baking powder

powder, and salt in two additions, ½ portion at a time.

1 teaspoon zest of citrus

Cool on rack and then dust with powdered sugar or glaze

(citrus of your choice)

with icing of your choice.

1/2 teaspoon salt 1 egg

Prepare muffin tins by lining with paper or spraying with

3/4 cup sugar

nonstick spray. Fill to 3/4 full. Bake for 14-18 minutes. This

1/4 cup milk

time depends on size of muffin tin.

1/4 cup Filippo Berio EVOO

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Chef Vince Pianalto

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Pasta and Broccoli al Aglio INGREDIENTS

METHOD

(Serves 8)

>> 12 ounces pasta

>> >> >> >>

>>

(farfalle, penne, or shape you prefer) 2 broccoli crowns 10-12 peeled garlic cloves 3/4 cup Filippo Berio olive oil 1/2 cup freshly grated romano or asiago cheese salt and pepper to taste

Bring several quarts of water to boil with 2 teaspoons of salt. “Salted not salty,” my grandma would say.

Drop in pasta and stir occasionally. Cool to al dente, 7-8 minutes. Drain. Set aside. Cut broccoli into florets, small sized. Blanch in boiling water. I actually drop broccoli into the pasta pot with 2-3 minutes left to boil. This saves a pot!

Slice garlic as thin as possible. In large sauté pan, add olive oil and turn heat to med high. Add garlic. Swirl pan to move garlic around. The garlic should bubble. When they color JUST around the edges, remove from heat and let the residual heat toast the garlic.

(If garlic burns and turns black, it will be horribly bitter. You want golden brown color.)

Toss the drained broccoli and pasta into pan with garlic and olive oil. Stir to combine.

Portion onto plates and sprinkle with cheese. Salt and pepper to taste.

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white

chicken chili recipe, Words and images Catherine Frederick

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Wait! Now, don’t just flip this page because the ingredient list seems long. Not only is this recipe worth it (it’s my family’s all-time favorite), but also, there’s really just not that much to it. This hearty and delicious soup is perfect for those upcoming cooler nights when all you want to do is snuggle by the fire (with a full belly) and lounge in your PJs. Let’s get started!

Ingredients 1 yellow onion, chopped 1 stick unsalted butter ¼ cup all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons chili powder 2 teaspoons ground cumin 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon ground black pepper 1 rotisserie chicken, breast meat deboned and cut into small chunks 1 (15 oz.) can Great Northern beans, rinsed and drained 1 (15 oz.) can Navy beans, rinsed and drained 1 (11 oz.) can white Shoepeg corn 2 (4 oz.) cans green chilies, chopped 2 cups half-and-half 1 (32 oz.) box chicken stock 1 ½ cups (about 6 oz.) Monterey Jack cheese, grated, plus extra for garnish ½ cup sour cream Green onions for garnish (optional) Bacon crumbles for garnish (optional)

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Method

In large soup pot, cook onions in 2 Tablespoons butter over medium heat until softened. Remove onions from pot, set aside. Melt remaining 6 Tablespoons butter in pot over low-medium heat. Whisk in flour, which creates the roux, and stir continuously for 2-3 minutes. Stir in onions.

Slowly add half-and-half and ž box of chicken stock, whisking constantly. Bring mixture to a gentle boil, stirring occasionally. Simmer for 5 minutes or until it begins to thicken. If too thick, add more chicken stock.

Stir in chili powder, cumin, salt and pepper. Add chicken, corn, beans, green chilies, and cheese.

Cook over low-medium heat, stirring occasionally for 20 minutes. Stir in sour cream. Cook for 5 minutes. Ladle into bowls, garnish with bacon crumbles, green onions, and grated cheese.

Serve with warm and crispy French bread.

Tasty tips: Taste test after adding the spices, giving the chili a few minutes to simmer. I always go back and add more along the way, but I’m a spice hound and tend to be heavyhanded when it comes to pepper, chili powder and cumin.

If you prefer a thinner consistency, add more chicken stock or half-and-half, just be sure to adjust the spices!

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HAIL MARY Images James Stefiuk Photography recipe Catherine Frederick

INGREDIENTS • 4 oz. Bloody Mary mix of choice (we like Whiskey Willy’s) • 1 ½ oz. vodka (more, to taste) • 2-4 shakes of Worcestershire sauce • ½ teaspoon prepared horseradish • Tabasco, to taste

Garnish Options • • • • • • •

Bloody Mary salt (for glass rims) Long toothpicks Bacon Pepperoncini peppers Vlasic Snack'mms kosher dill pickles Olives Celery

Method Cook bacon, set aside. Place pickle, olive, and pepperoncini onto a cocktail skewer.

Rim glass with Bloody Mary salt if using. In mixing tin, combine vodka, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, prepared horseradish, and Bloody Mary mix. Garnish as desired.

Please drink responsibly. Never drink and drive.

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THE MAN IN BLACK words Dwain Hebda Photos of Johnny Cash LOOK Magazine Photograph Collection, Library of Congress, and John R. Cash Revocable Trust All other images, Dwain Hebda and Arkansas State University Heritage Sites

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I

It’s a piercing summer day in Mississippi County, Arkansas, hot enough to bleach the azure sky to pale misty blue.

All around, fields of emerald and kelly stretch to the far horizon, the flat landscape unmarred by hills, a vista only occasionally broken by the wayward clump of trees.

Driving by at cruising speed, the crushed velvet bean fields stand sturdy in corduroy rows while the wispy rice paddies bend and stretch in the merciless heat of the day.

Larry Sims barely breaks a sweat. Some fifty years ago, times like these were just another day in the life of a farm boy, chopping cotton and wishing he were doing anything but. That’s his boyhood home about a quarter mile yonder, shimmering under the weight of mile-wide bulbous white and silver clouds.

“This is where I walked to school every day, same way Johnny did,” Larry says of the scorching gravel lane that vivisects the cropland in Dyess, Arkansas. That walk took him right past the Cash place and the cotton fields where the family farmed, scraped, picked and prayed for the chance to do it another day. Tourists didn’t come by the busload back then; no sign stood out front as it does now announcing to fans they’d reached the humble true-north for one of the brightest music stars the world had ever known.

“I think if (Johnny Cash) saw how we went back and furnished

a program started in 1933 under President Franklin D. Roos-

(his childhood home) just like it was when he was there, I think

evelt, that was meant to give poor, displaced farm families

he would truly appreciate what we did,” says Linda Hinton,

a fighting chance against the natural and manmade disasters

acting director of Dyess Colony historical site.

of the Great Depression, circumstances that left many literally living on the side of the road.

Dyess Colony would be a significant historical spot even if it hadn’t produced a man who would change the face of popular

“(Dyess) was vital because it was a major effort during the

music. One of a dozen relocation projects that dotted the

New Deal,” says Dr. Ruth Hawkins, director of Arkansas State

state, the largest, Dyess Colony, was a New Deal initiative,

University Heritage Sites. “Farmers had been the victims of

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several economic setbacks. Certainly, the 1927 flood that

tually occupied by families who had successfully passed an

wiped out a lot of their crops and then the 1930-31 drought,

interview process and who agreed to the terms of their good

then the bank failures which meant that it was impossible

fortune. Each family drew an advance to buy twenty to forty

to get a crop loan. Arkansas was harder hit than most other

acres, a new house with outbuildings, a mule, a cow, groceries,

states. You had people that really were down on their luck and

supplies and a two-year window to start paying everything off.

no real place to turn.”

The swampy, timbered ground waiting to be drained and Colonization Project No. 1, as it was known before being

cleared wasn’t an easy row to hoe, but to the farmers, this

renamed for William Reynolds Dyess, the state’s first WPA

small patch was everything they could want, warts, snakes and

administrator, was a rural cooperative. At its center was a

all. Although some locals looked upon the resettled families

functioning government-funded settlement that included an

that arrived with disdain, the difficulties of day-to-day life made

administration building, a commissary, high school, hospital

it hard to view them as getting a free ride.

and, in time, a raft of other services from a cotton gin to a theater to a newspaper.

“It wasn’t a handout, it was a hand up as a lot of them like to say because it certainly wasn’t for free,” Ruth says. “The

From this hub stretched a halo of 16,000 acres subdivided into

government did provide a house and land and the expenses to

more than 600 homesteads, of which about 500 were even-

make a crop for the first couple years, with the understanding

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that once they started making money, they would start paying that back. Farm families would have starved without that.”

Families were also expected to take a shift working various jobs in town to help keep the colony running. Among these was working at the local cannery where women were taught how to preserve garden produce and were paid in the canned foods they learned how to put up. Similar classes were in quilt making and other handicrafts.

In 1936, Ray and Carrie Rivers Cash were admitted to the program, one of five families relocated from Cleveland County. Among the brood was threeyear-old J.R. Cash, the fourth of the seven Cash children, who by age five would be working in the fields alongside his parents and siblings.

J.R. graduated Dyess High School in 1950 then took off for the Air Force. He’d never live in Dyess again, but he visited several times, even performing charity shows to benefit his hometown. The singer still brings them in, although many expecting Johnny Cash Land don’t know what awaits them in Dyess, Linda said.

“Well, we do have an advantage having Johnny Cash from here,” she says. “That gets them here.

And then, when they learn about Dyess, it's a double whammy for them because they enjoy learning about history they didn't know about. It’s not something you read in everyday history books.”

Most of the remaining Cash family had moved away by the 1970s, and the home remained in private hands until 2011. Like the colony buildings, it very nearly disappeared due to neglect and the ravages of time. Not that the ramshackle condition of the house deterred visitors; even as the house crumbled, up to 8,000 fans a year from around the world routinely appeared to pay their respects.

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five dollars if they stepped on the yard,” Linda says. “People

concerts held in Jonesboro specifically to benefit the site. The

from Ireland and Germany and everywhere were coming in,

success of those events inspired this year’s even more ambitious

taking pictures from the road.”

project, the inaugural three-day Johnny Cash Heritage Festival.

Slated for October 19-21, it will feature lectures, music, crafts

Arkansas State University acquired the roughly 1,000-square-

and a special ticketed concert headlined by Kris Kristofferson to

foot home in 2011 and spent three years restoring it to exacting

be held on a stage on the gravel road that runs in front of the

detail, right down to the placement and species of shade trees

Cash residence. Also performing will be Roseanne Cash, Joanne

in the yard. More recently, ASU acquired the rotting administra-

and Tommy Cash, and Buddy Jewel.

tion building and the theater which had been reduced to the front facade propped up by timbers and reopened these along

The home itself is tidy and close inside, and the bare wood

with a new visitors center in 2016.

walls, floors, and ceiling remind one of a sauna, which is exactly how it must have felt on days like today. Four children slept in

Along the way, $3.3 million was spent on restoration, a combi-

one room in two beds; the eldest daughter and parents in the

nation of grants, donations, and proceeds from four annual

other. The house was equipped with wiring and pipes, but elec-

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tricity and water wouldn't reach out this far for a decade after the family moved in. Matriarch Carrie Cash’s original upright piano holds a silent place of honor in one corner.

One of the great things about the

“One of the great things about the Johnny Cash house is people walk in and when they leave their comments are usually, ‘Oh my gosh. Now we know where his music came from,’” Ruth says. “The other really great thing is that house is not just about Johnny Cash. People walk in and say, ‘Oh, my grandmother had one of those,’ or ‘We had one of those.’

It’s a wonderful way for people to make connections and to remember or learn about how people lived in rural communi-

Johnny Cash house is people walk in and when they leave

ties during the ‘30s and ‘40s.”

The Cash clan would flee the place when the Tyronza River rushed its banks in January 1937. But unlike many of their neighbors, the family returned, stubbornly, when the waters receded. Johnny would later memorialize the event in “Five Feet High and Rising” and commemorate his childhood in “Pickin’ Time,” “Country Boy,” and “Look at Them Beans.”

Beyond these commonly known facts, Larry rattles off other bits of trivia that could only come from the lifelong resident and former Dyess mayor he is. Around one bend lies the area’s best natural pool, “good for swimming, skinny-dipping or baptizing,” he says, “but not all at the same time, of course.”

their comments are usually, ‘Oh my gosh. Now we know where his music came from.’

On another corner, the nondescript clapboard building where the Hollywood people filmed the sawmill scene in Walk the Line for which they stripped the town of any hint of modernity, right down to removing window air conditioners.

Historic Dyess Colony: Johnny Cash Boyhood Home

“They even took up the striping on the highway here,” he says,

dyesscash.astate.edu

a cockeyed grin creasing his face. All that and they still only got

Johnny Cash Heritage Festival

the story about half right, he figures.

October 19-21 A few snapshots and handshakes later, it’s time to go. As the

Hear Roseanne Cash, Kris Kristofferson,

unrelenting sun starts to slip in the west, I head toward the

Joanne and Tommy Cash, and Buddy Jewel.

highway past a neighbor’s hand-lettered sheet of plywood sporting the strangely Cash-esque line: “Wake up, get ready, Jesus is coming.” In the distance, baritone thunder echoes the

johnnycashheritagefestival.com

unstilled voice of the Delta.

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47 55

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travel

words Dwain Hebda images courtesy Murphy Arts District and Main Street El Dorado

From September 27 through October 1, a trove of iconic musicians will be performing in El Dorado, Arkansas. Lyle Lovett, Train, ZZ Top, Ludacris, Brad Paisley and Smokey Robinson, headline four days of music along with many other great musicians.

El Dorado drew this stellar card to help christen the new Murphy Arts District, a multi-million dollar effort to turn the oil town into a major music destination. This is the story of the scrappy town’s hard work, community pride and a whole lot of creative energy.

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travel taste

September is a big month for El Dorado, Arkansas native Austin

The MAD facilities will enhance El Dorado’s existing reputation as

Barrow, who’s heading the development of the Murphy Arts

a premier mid-south concert venue. The town’s MusicFest, which

District (MAD), scheduled to open later this month.

will celebrate its thirtieth anniversary this month, has been named Arkansas Festival of the Year a record six times since 2007.

There was a time when Austin couldn’t have imagined that he’d be back in his hometown, having split after high school with no

Phase Two, which is still to come, will include an art gallery and

intention of coming back. Austin had his eye on the performing

exhibition hall with artists in residence programs and renovation

arts and despite its romantic-sounding name, the hard-baked oil

of the Rialto, a 1920s vaudeville theater.

fields of El Dorado hardly seemed like a launching pad for such a career. So, he got a theater degree from Louisiana Tech and

It’s hard to decide if the idea of a former oil boomtown recasting

spent a decade in Chicago, Los Angeles and a couple of other

itself as an arts and entertainment hub is as preposterous as it

ports of call before settling into life as a college professor.

first sounds. The city’s founding was especially inauspicious: Matthew Rainey allegedly became stranded there and opened

But returning to Union County, Arkansas? The thought never

a retail store in 1843 to sell off his belongings and raise some

crossed his mind.

cash, an enterprise which begat El Dorado.

So, when he got a call from the folks back home asking if he’d

The town even has a celebrated blood feud to its credit, a

return and head up a project called the Murphy Arts District

violent spat that was equal parts OK Corral and Hatfield v.

(MAD), no one was more surprised than Austin, who was then

McCoy. The civic hostilities were touched off by a spurned lover

teaching college drama in Georgia.

who started a bona fide gunfight in the street, resulting in three deaths including that of the would-be Romeo. Animosity over

“I couldn’t think of a better excuse to move back home than to

the incident simmered between the local Tucker and Parnell

bring all of the education and experience I’d had being a gypsy all

clans over the next three years, with acts of violent retribu-

over the country and bringing that back to El Dorado,” he said.

tion and counter-retribution that would claim between thirty to forty additional lives. At one time, deployment of the state

Now, as president of El Dorado Festivals and Events, Austin has

militia was required to keep the peace.

watched the dream of the arts district become a reality. The project is divided into two parts, and on September 28, Phase One will open to the public.

The downtown development includes the Griffin restaurant, a farm-to-table eatery housed in a factory that once turned out Model Ts; an 8,000-seat amphitheater; a kids’ area with a playground and splash pad; a music hall that will seat 2,000; and a more intimate music venue that seats 200.

The Grand Opening slate includes ZZ Top, Smokey Robinson, Train, Ludacris, Migos and Brad Paisley and a private donors-only concert will host Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, and Robert Earl Keen.

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travel

But of course, the grandest chapter in the town’s history came

house everybody. At one point, El Dorado boasted fifty-nine oil

when local speculator and physician Dr. Samuel T. Busey struck

contracting companies, thirteen oil distributors and refiners and

oil January 10, 1921, and started a boom that transformed

twenty-two oil production companies.

El Dorado from a sleepy farming hamlet of 4,000 to a major player in the state’s economy. The population rose quicker than

The oil business continues to play a major role in El Dorado’s

a wildcat gusher, more than sevenfold in four years, spawning

fortunes, but the community has suffered hard times in other ways

tent neighborhoods because there weren’t enough structures to

and the population steadily decreased. In fact, when Beth Brumley,

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taste travel

executive director of Main Street El Dorado, moved here in 1994 the population was around 27,000; in the twenty-three years since, it’s dropped to around 17,000.

But, as Beth noted, the city’s fortunes have been shaped not by those who’ve left, but by the resolve and creativity of those who’ve stuck around.

“For south Arkansas, El Dorado is the hub,” Beth said. “Most people who don’t go below Little Rock have no idea. We’re 17,000 people, but we have within thirty miles several other towns that depend on us. Most of their workforce drives to El Dorado to shop, to eat, to work. We want to be the best we can be, and I think everybody has that same mindset and wants El Dorado to thrive.”

Main Street El Dorado was in the 1980s what MAD proposes to be today, a means of promoting the city, attracting new residents and creating an environment where businesses can thrive and grow. Thanks in part to the group’s efforts, the city’s core is in good shape, at about ninety percent occupancy.

Beth, who has been in her role since March, said the addition of MAD fits into the overall picture, just as Main Street El Dorado did with the town’s various other promotion and economic development organizations.

“We get that question a lot: ‘How do you have a downtown business association, a chamber of commerce, a main street organization and all get along?’” she says, emphasizing the fact that they work great together. “We each try to pick a point and say this is what we’re going to do and we come together when we have to.

But we all kind of take a separate spot and call it ours.”

About the time Main Street El Dorado was being formed, the community was also discovering the power of tourism. Its recreation of the Tucker-Parnell gunfight has been packing them into downtown every Saturday night in the summer for three decades.

Austin said he’s looking for MAD to provide something for every taste from major touring acts to more eclectic offerings. “We’re not necessarily trying to be everything to everybody, but I want to have a continuity of programming here,” he says. “I want people to say, ‘Hey, I wonder what’s going on at MAD this weekend?’ because we’ve got enough different types of options that you begin to trust us as curators of your entertainment experience.”

Murphy Arts District Grand Opening Celebration September 27-October 1 870.863.4547 eldomad.com Main Street El Dorado 870.862.4747 mainstreeteldorado.org

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southern fiction

REMNANTS OF

Another Time FICTION Marla Cantrell

G

Glen Campbell showed up at the foot of my bed three nights

shirt red, flowered, and unbuttoned to the middle of his farm-boy

after he died. He said, real gentle like, “Mary Alice, you’re from

chest. Death had made him young again. He frowned. “You don’t

Phoenix, aren’t you?” I sat up, a shockwave running through me.

want me to play?” he asked, and I said, “Not if it wakes up Carl.”

I blinked twice, thinking Glen might disappear, but he didn’t. I was from Phoenix, though I wondered how he knew. I’d moved

“We should go outside then,” Glen said.

to Arkansas when I was six, and now I was nearing sixty, a fact I held like a cup of scalding coffee that was bound to burn me

My pajamas were gray and stretched out, and there was writing

sooner or later.

on the top that read, Help Me Make It Through the Night. It was a line from an old song I used to slow dance to at the Shimmy

“I wrote a song about Phoenix once,” he said, grinning, and

Shimmy Club when I was barely eighteen. Now, the words were

just like that, a guitar appeared in his hands.

more like a prayer. “I don’t think I should be hanging out with a man, dead or otherwise, in the middle of the night,” I said.

I held a finger to my lips and nodded toward my husband, Carl,

“No offense,” I added, and Glen said, “Might make for a good

who was wearing his CPAP mask. That mask has ruined our

story someday. I know how you love stories.”

love life more than his snoring ever did.

So, I crawled out of bed. We walked through the house until Glen wore a chestnut-colored leather jacket I remembered from

we reached the back door, and then we stepped into the bloom

an album cover in the 1970s. His pants were tan polyester, his

of that August night.

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southern fiction

Glen took a breath. “No place in the world like Arkansas.”

The next thing he said was, “Let’s walk.” I stepped inside for a minute, snuck into the bedroom and slipped on my tennis

I have a gardenia that lives only because I set it right by the porch

shoes. When I came outside, Glen was in the backyard, the

there, where the runoff from the AC drips and drips. It had flow-

stars above him. He looked like a god.

ered last Sunday when Glen’s address was still on this side of Glory.

On the fence row a few feet away, my antique roses bloomed, all

We walked down the dirt road in front of my house. When we

pink, all with French names I couldn’t pronounce if you held a .44

reached the crossroads, I led him down another dirt path that

to my head.

took us to Paddock Lake that was hidden behind pines and oak.

The surface of the water was a mirror for the moonlight, and

Glen leaned against the porch railing and breathed. “The

a family of raccoons huddled on the bank. We eased around

perfume of night,” he said. “The drifting smell of hay and creek

them. At the fishing dock, we sat. Glen took off his cowboy

water. Dirt roads after a summer rain. County fairs where every-

boots, rolled up his pants, and put his feet in the water.

thing’s fried. Churches that smell like old books and lemon “My deepest memories are in Arkansas,” he said. “Sitting next

furniture polish. I love them all.”

to my mama in church on Sunday morning when I was a boy, “That right there,” I said. “What you just said, all that beauty,

knowing there’d be dinner on the ground after. Playing that first

that’s how come you could write all those songs.”

five-dollar guitar Daddy bought me from Sears and Roebuck.”

His guitar was slung across his back. “I had a way of looking

He moved his feet back and forth, two metronomes keeping

at the world sideways, I guess. I think it was because I almost

time, the dark water swishing. “Once I was gone, though, I

drowned once. My brother Lyndell saved me when I was a little

didn’t know how to come back.”

kid. After that, my life seemed like a miracle, like a divine gift.”

“None of us blamed you,” I said. “Dang, that one year you sold There are two rocking chairs on my porch, painted turquoise,

more records than the Beatles.”

the color chipping the way all those home decorators love nowadays. I sat down, and Glen adjusted his guitar and sat

Glen smiled. “I remember that,” he said.

next to me. “I saw you once at the Arkansas-Oklahoma State Fair,” I said. “They’d turned the lights low, and you rode to the

“I dug my heels in, as soon as we got to Arkansas,” I said.

middle of the arena on a white horse. The glitter on your outfit

“Those first six years in Arizona felt like a fraud. There was no

caught the moonlight, caught the lamplight, threw sparkles

unpredictable weather. There was no dew on the grass. Well, if

that looked like shooting stars. My lord, how you could sing.”

you had grass. Most of our neighbors had given up and dumped gravel in their yards. “When I got here, I knew I was home.”

Glen picked up his guitar and started singing his song about Glen found a pebble, skipped it across the water. The rock hitting

lonely housewives that kills me every time.

the surface sounded like firecrackers, three loud pops. He frowned.

The moon was leaning toward red, so pretty the weather guy

“Those last years were mighty hard. My whole life I’d believed I

showed a picture of it on the news the next morning. When he

was on this planet to help folks forget their troubles. At the end, it

finished singing, he said, “If I’d stayed in Arkansas, I might have

was as if everybody’s troubles were sitting on my chest.”

married a girl like you. Had a bunch of kids. Maybe some cattle.”

He was talking about the Alzheimer’s that chewed him up, that I smoothed my hair with the back of my hand, felt the heat rise

broke his heart. Every day was another subtraction problem until

to my face. The tree frogs were so loud they sounded like an

even the edgy light of an August day was an undefinable thing.

engine come to life. “Still a smooth-talker,” I said, and he said, “I get that a lot.”

“Is life better now?” I said, and pointed to the heavens.

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southern fiction

“You can’t even imagine,” he said.

We lay back on the dock, the damp wood cool, the night electric with crickets and tree frogs. An owl hooted. “I’d have the

I blinked hard against the tears that burned my eyes. The day

birthday party, if I were you,” he said.

before, I’d come home from the store, put the ice cream in the pantry. I didn’t find the carton until after dinner when Carl

I could see the globe of a flashlight on the walking trail a few

wanted dessert. It wasn’t my first forgetting.

yards away. I could hear two voices, the high trill of a girl, the bass of a boy. The girl said, “If my mom finds out I snuck away

“I’ll be sixty soon,” I said. “Before the calendar changes from

to see you, she’ll kill me!” The boy answered, so low I couldn’t

August to September. I was planning a big birthday party, but

make out the words.

I’ve got this daughter I’m crossways with.” I rubbed my arms against the damp night. “I don’t think I can fix it, and I don’t

Glen grinned. “There’s nothing new under the sun,” he said.

think I could stand having a party without her.

“Thank God for that.”

“Carl’s going to take me to Western Sizzlin. I got a friend who

I started to mention his own reputation with the ladies, the scan-

offered to take me to the Dixie Stampede in Branson the next day.”

dals that followed him like his own shadow for years and years, but something about the easiness of his body, the looseness of

I looked at Glen. He was staring at his hands.

his smile, made me want to spare him any bad memories.

The lake smelled of fish and old leaves. A breeze blew through

“I’d better get you back,” Glen said, and pulled me to my feet.

the trees, the sound like a deck of cards being shuffled. “I lit a

I wondered if the young couple saw us, if they were surprised

candle for you when I heard you’d crossed over,” I said.

by the sight of a young man and an old woman on the dock, so close they could be up to something.

“Awful nice of you,” Glen said.

Back at home, we sat on the porch, and I asked him to sing “By “When you left this earth, it felt like you took a part of my girl-

the Time I Get to Phoenix.” I remembered every word.

hood with you. I grew up with your songs. I kept a poster of you on my bedroom wall.”

When he finished, he placed his hands just above my ears, and kissed the top of my head, took his jacket off and wrapped it

Glen shook his head, an expert on loss, a Ph.D. in sorrow.

around my shoulders. He took a few steps and then turned around. “Have the party,” he said again. “Let the people who

“I forget people’s names sometimes,” I said. “I took my

love you, love you.”

wedding ring off months ago when I cleaned the oven. Still haven’t found it. I couldn’t remember the word ‘sock’ last

As he walked away, I pulled the coat tight around me. It smelled

week. I call my dog by my old dead dog’s name about ninety

like woodsy aftershave and old cigarettes and spilled whiskey.

percent of the time.”

Remnants of another time.

I could see the raccoons rising, their bodies wobbly as they

The lights in my neighbor’s house flicked on just as the sun

inched along into the woods. Glen said, “It could be nothing at

started to rise, but I stayed on the porch, watching Glen leave,

all, Mary Alice. Just the effects of time, of too many memories.”

his hands in his pockets, his head turning now and then, as if he was taking in every fencepost, every blade of grass,

“I do have a truckload of memories,” I said, and I could feel

every bird on a limb. I tried to look at them the way he did,

relief ease through me.

and suddenly they were the stuff of miracles, they were as precious as little lambs.

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